The Twelve Bills of Christmas
by Lor-tan
Summary: A variety of Christmas drabbles all starring variations of our favourite dream demon. Some Bills are female, some are a bit bluer then canon, and some sport kitty ears or Santa Clause hats and corsets. But they all have one thing in common: me fangirling over them. Disclaimer will be added in the morning with the next six drabbles.


**Disclaimer:** Luckily for essentially everyone in it that isn't Dipper, Wendy, Bill or that really awesome merman from "the Deep End," I do not own Gravity Falls. I also do not own several of the AU Bills featured here. Captain Bill Cipher and god!Bill both belong to Lanx Borealis, whose work you can find on both FanFictiin and Archive of Our Own. Jill Cipher is loosely inspired by the design made by Eyebird96. I suggest checking his art out, it's quite lovely. I believe that you can find him on several art sites. Other then that, they're all general AUs or my own, though you may feel free to use them.

xXx

Captain Bill Cipher spends his Christmas with his Birdie, naturally.

They wake up earlier then the boy for once, which means less struggling on the other's part and less annoyance on theirs, and roll carefully and sneakily off of the tiny body beneath them.

They have things to do.

First they light the sconces on the wall, carefully altering the magic that keeps them aflame so that instead of their usual blue, they become the multicolors of Christmas lights. Red, green, blue, orange and yellow glows bathe the room, and Bill basks in them for a moment before moving on.

Next to get the Christmas treatment is their Birdie's cage. They very, _very_ much hope that they won't have to put him in it today, it being Christmas and all, but they didn't get to where they are by not being prepared for everything! More lights are strung through the golden bars, and round red jewels that will have to do as ornaments.

It takes them a long time to find it, buried under all the piles of clothes and jewels and broken breakables. But eventually they emerge with a Santa Clause of faded red velvet, and white fur that they are fairly certain isn't faux. As they go searching for a pair of stockings to wear and their corset, they pull it on, and throw the tiny puffball of soft white fur over their shoulder.

They find an extra pair of stockings, and while they aren't quite the right style and Bill doesn't have a fireplace, they hang them up anyways, pinned on the wall with ruby brooches, underneath a port hole.

When they have dressed and finally finish with all of their preparation, and all the magical lights have been strung and stockings hung, they step back to look at it all, and check themself in the mirror.

The Santa hat doesn't look half bad, Bill thinm, running a stitched up finger over the fur. Red isn't necessary their color, but they know from a thousand times being spattered in blood that it isn't _not_ their color, either. They turn from the mirror with a smile on their lips and head towards the bed, a swagger in their step and twisted beyond recognition Christmas cheer in their eye.

Now all that's left is to wake their Birdie up with a kiss under the mistletoe.

xXx

Bill "Blackie" Cipher loves Christmas. It's the best time of the year, and he knows this very well.

There're presents under the temptingly decorated tree for him. A special holiday collar around his neck, with a little golden jingle bell sewn on under the bowtie. He's already had his tuna for breakfast, and knows from past experience and the promises of his boy that there will be a plate of the Christmas dinner of his very own in the evening.

And, quite possibly among the best of it all, there is the red hot space heater he is currently lounging on his stomach in front of, his arms and legs stretched out around him and his tail tracing lazy curves in the air.

"Enjoying yourself, aren't you?" His boy asks, a bit snarkily, and he opens one eye to look at him. Well, honestly, he only can open one eye. His left was torn out and scarred over in an idiotic incident long before he ever met his boy. Still, he tries his best to wink, like all good cat boys supposedly did.

"It's purrrrfect." He moans, stretching out one arm to bat at his boy's feet, fingers catching a shoelace and tugging. "Why don't you join me, Pine Tree?"

His boy scoffs, smiling down at him for a moment before letting out a childish giggle and dropping down next to Bill, laying a hand on his head and rubbing him between the ears.

"Oh, gods, yes. Please never stop." Bill purrs, resisting the urge to roll over for a belly rub.

"But of course, kitten. Whatever his highness wishes for." His boy says, a silly grin on his face, and Bill smiles toothily back, tail thrashing with pleasure and happiness that he's here for the holidays, instead of anywhere else, be that streets or shelters or another boy's home.

And honestly, more then the food or the collar or even the heater, the very best thing about Christmas is that it's just another day, another ordinary day, that Bill "Blackie" Cipher can spend with his boy, Dipper Pines.

xXx

Jill Cipher plans to spend her Christmas with Pine Tree, her boyfriend. She wakes a fraction of time earlier, just to make sure she'll have enough time to get ready.

She puts on makeup, black kohl around her eye that isn't hidden behind the ugly eye patch that she wishes she could shed, just for today, and rosy blush on her cheeks. She hangs biotite triangles in her ears, and a bowtie choker around her neck, and smiles at her reflection in the mirror as she starts on her hair.

She brushes her hair first, carefully separating the bleached blond chunks from the black and forming her wild curls into two perfect black and yellow ringlets, and arranging her top hat fascinator at _just_ the right tilt on her head.

She puts on her silkiest black shorts and thigh highs, proudly ignoring the snow drifts outside until she absently flicks on the TV and hears the temperature outside. She regains her common sense and fetches a warmer pair of black stockings, with tiny yellow bowties marching up the sides.

Her undershirt and vest with the triangle buttons are next, the latter carefully adjusted until the brick patterns are perfectly straight and the long tails fold at the perfect point, and her chest shows barely enough to become a point of interest.

The last touches are her warmer gloves, that go up her arms and culminate in another tiny yellow bow, her black felt double breasted coat, and her heels.

Then out the door.

Down the street to a bus stop.

Onto and out of the bus.

Through a cats iron gate.

Down a few rows.

And to a grave bearing the heavy title of "Dipper Pines."

"Hey babe. I've got the whole day freed for us to spend together." She says, stealing a pot of fading poinsettias from another headstone and placing it at his. "Well, aside from a reservation at eight. For dinner. But what do you want to do until then?" A pause. "Just talk? Okay. How about I tell you all about my week?" She asks, sitting in the snow and ignoring the cold that seeps through even her warmer stockings.

Anything for her Pine Tree, after all.

xXx

Bill Cipher is, first and foremost, an exceptional butler. He wakes just as early on Christmas as he would any day, goes through the same motions.

Get dressed to cover his tattoos, style hair to cover his red eye, put on gloves to cover his pentagram. Check.

Wake the other sevants. Check.

Start breakfast and set tea to brewing. Check.

Set table. Check.

First wake up call for his young master and mistress. Check.

Finish cooking breakfast and call the other servants to move it. Check.

Prepare tea tray. Check.

Second and last wake up call for his young master, serve hot tea to rouse his tired little mind, and help him dress. Check.

Repeat of the last step with his master's sister, minus the dressing part. (They have a maid for that, after all.) Check.

Serve breakfast and stand close by in case anything is, for the first time ever in his service, wrong. Check.

"Merry Christmas, Bill!" Dipper says immediately after he has finished eating and the last plate has been taken away. He pulls a tiny box out of his pocket, and holds it out to Bill.

Bill knows that wasn't in there last night, when he ironed the shirt and trousers his master would be wearing today. He must have slipped it in while he was being dressed, the clever kid.

"Take it, Bill! It's a Christmas present!" Mabel explains, as if he didn't already know as much from the red and green ribbon on top, not to mention the date.

Accept gift. Check.

Gingerly open gift under the inspection of four chocolate brown eyes. Check.

Carefully lift out the black silk bow tie within. Check.

Cry happy tears. Check.

xXx

Erin Cipher didn't even know what day it was until she popped by to taunt Pine Tree, and saw an actual pine tree, decorated with lights and glass orbs that probably were colored, but like everything else they were grey scale at the moment. Handmade ornaments and plastic icicles hung from the branches as well, the slightly dead Christmas tree sitting in the twin's bedroom.y

Stan had no doubt gotten a good deal on a dying tree, she thought to herself.

Unfortunately, neither of the twins were in the room, not the absurdly cheerful Shooting Star nor her favourite funny little Pine Tree.

So she created a new ornament, a tiny likeness of her, pink bricks, hair bow, eyeshadow and all, and left it on their tree.

She knew they'd find it eventually.

"Happy Christmas, kid!" She called, and when she left, the world gained colour again.

xXx

Erin Pines was awoken by two excited blobs bouncing on her bed at five in the morning, shouting "It's Christmas it's Christmas it's Christmas" over and over again with the excitement that only kids before their double digits could muster.

"I know." She mumbled blearily, flopping over and attempting to protect herself from their hopping feet. "Cut it out or I'll eat your tongues." She threatened halfheartedly, and in return got two identical five year old faces shoved into her own.

"You wouldn't!" Mabel crowed. "Not on Christmas! Now come on! We need to get mum and dad!" With that the more energetic of the twins ran out, leaving her brother scrambling after her before he was caught by the back of his pajama collar.

"Oh no you don't." Erin mumbled, slowly sliding out of bed and expertly manoeuvring to keep her hold on her little brother. "One of you each is more then enough. Leave the poor man and woman alone for a second." She told him, finally letting go of his collar and picking him up before he could make a break for it. She cradled him against her side, letting him wrap his legs around her waist by himself, and dreaded the day he and his twin grew too big for this.

"Now, what do you think I should wear on Christmas?" She asked, setting towards her closet and running a hand through her hair as she walked past her mirror, sparing a second to properly move a chunk to cover one eye and cheek in the style she'd prefered since she was old enough to cut her own hair. "I'll let you pick the jumper, as long as it's yellow." She told the boy on her hip.

Oh who was she kidding. They were all yellow!

xXx

Will Cipher spends his Christmas in chains, just like he's spent every Christmas under the Gleeful twins.

Crying.

But there is a Christmas tree in the room they're keeping him in, and lights can be seen through the window, and he can hear "God rest ye merry gentlemen" being sung only a little bit mockingly through the door.

xXx

Bill Cipher may be a god, and hundreds of thousands of years old, but the seasons changing will always amaze him. Spring, summer, Autumn, winter, rinse and repeat, iver and over, and yet he still finds a little bit of joy in him when the first flowers bloom, the sun gets hot and cracks the ground, the leaves turn and fall.

And best of all, snow.

Snow is what makes winter different then all of the other seasons. It belongs to winter and winter alone, somehow. Even if it snows in the spring, it isn't called a spring snow, is it? No. It's a late snow, late because it's not winter anymore, and everybody knows that snow belongs in winter. And if it snows in Autumn, it's the same. It's early.

This year it hasn't snowed at all though. Bill doesn't even know it's winter until a few days before Christmas, really, when Dipper is about to leave, and mentions that the next time he's coming to visit will have to be Christmas evening, and that he's bringing a gift for Bill.

"It's already Christmas?" Bill asks, his eyes a bit wide, and Dipper laughs nervously.

"No. It's three days from now. Didn't you notice?" Dipper asks, before remembering that Bill can't leave the woods. "Oh. nevermind. But surely you must have suspected. It's winter now, after all. Surely you noticed that."

Bill shakes his head.

"Oh. Huh. Well, I guess it doesn't seem very Wintry and Christmassy, without the snow and ice and stuff. Anyhow, regardless, I'll be here again in three days. And it will be Christmas. I'm bringing you a present." Dipper says dryly, before taking Bill's hand so that the god can take him to the edge of the woods.

"Do I need to get you something?" Bill wonders aloud, and Dipper shakes his head.

"No. You'd just get something really weird. I don't want body parts or dead animals or something."

Bill gets a book on the seven wonders of the world, most of which he'd visited at some point back when they weren't wonders yet.

Dipper gets snow.

xXx

Bill wakes to the soft, distinct whimpers of an Orin in the midst of a nightmare. His fingers dig into the boy's bony hips, and there is a bare stomach pressed tight to his equally bare chest, ribs pressed to his shoulder, and a pale face just inches from his own.

He's not actually sure where he left the large majority of his clothes. Winter solstice is a time of much Faerie liquor being poured into wooden cups, horns, and stone or earthen ware bowls; he's not sure of a majority of what happened last night, and doubts anyone else is either.

Though he can vaguely re call Hypocrisy and Giffany getting up on a table to dance for a few of the other male Faeries, and Orin's mouth and tears tasting even sweeter then ever after a bit too much wine.

Orin whines and attempts to burrow into his chest, jerking his legs out of the tangle they have formed with Bill's and then immediately reinserting them, knee bending around one of Bill's thighs.

The boy's face is twisted with fear and so, so close, and Bill can hear his heart rate picking up. He's twitching a bit now, and Bill feels jagged fingernails digging lines into his lower back, and Orin's mouth opens to suck in air desperately, as if he's fighting to live right then and there.

Evidently, the boy had decided at some point in the night that it was his life's mission to look mouthwateringly heavenly when Bill woke.

And he had suceeded.

The screams of the human boy Dipper Pines woke a great many Faeries that morning.

xXx

The magician Bill Cipher didn't celebrate Christmas, not really. He would have preferred it to be spent like any other day, being safely sequestered away in a library, or his bedroom, where he could do whatever he wanted, cause whatever mess he pleased. Or maybe sorting through the guts of some innocent creature in the lab, in an attempt to see the future spelled out in the entrails.

But _no_. Unfortunately for Bill, _publicity_ , (oh how he loathed that word.) was a necessary thing in this world, at least were a magician to wish to suceed in life. So here he was, haunting the dark corners and staircases of the absurdly crowded party one his fellow magicians, a woman named Pyronica, apparently threw every year.

Why she would do such a thing, he had no idea. But on the upside, the amount of crowd meant that one could successfully juggle two tactics: wallflower waiting for you to come to him, and man creeping in the shadows who attempted to coerce you into being involved in arcane magic rituals which had had only dubious successes in the past.

The reason that he needed two was that neither tactic was a good one. Honestly, he could have used a third to pick up a slack, but there were few personalities that could reliably work in combination with "wallflower" and "creepy man."

And besides. Sometimes he still caught a fish from the sea, even if his bait was a few days off it's expiration date.

"Excuse me, uh, you're Bill Cipher, right?" Began the young man who had most recently come to find him, and now stood fiddling with his shirt buttonsMy name's Dipper, ah, I mean, Mason Pines. I had heard that you knew some things about soothsaying?"

Bill grinned, and tipped his hat. "Yeah! I know a guy!"

xXx

All around him, steam is billowing, and soot is flying, and the air is filled with clanging and grinding of gears. Bill cackles, and skips along the railing, his partner Dipper yelling after him, but he's not really listening and somewhere above him, a horn blows, more steam bursting into existence the moment it begins.

Bill's entire body felt hot under his leathers, from the tips of his boots to the top hat he wore. His goggles were too steamy to bother with wearing, in fact doing so would probably be hazardous, and so he'd wrapped them around the crown of his hat, leaving his one good eye to boil and his mechanical one to click erratically in the harsh humid conditions it was put under almost daily.

metal swung over head, almost knocking him from the railing, and Bill felt a hand grabbing him and pulling him roughly down onto the actual walkway.

"I told you to stop that before you hurt yourself!" Dipper spat, wiping sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand and acvidently exposing his birthmark. Bill smirked.

"Oh so you do care!" He said mockingly, before ducking before Dipper could properly smack him upside the head. Not that the kid could actually reach his head.

"Don't go putting words in my mouth, Bill!" Dipper grumbled, waving a leather gloved finger in Bill's face. He'd be tempted to bite it if he didn't know Dipper would run him over with a horseless carriage later if he

"Fine. How about song?" Bill started singing before Dipper could even open his mouth to reply.

"Some friends and I in a public house  
Were playing a game of chance one night  
When into the pub a fireman ran  
His face all a chalky white.  
What's up", says Brown, "Have you seen a ghost,  
Or have you seen your Aunt Mariah?  
Me Aunt Mariah be buggered!, says he  
The bleedin' pub's on fire!

And there was Brown upside down  
Lappin'' up the whiskey on the floor.  
Booze, booze!" The firemen cried, "

And that was as far as he managed to get, ducking and dodging, before Dipper's physical violence caught up with him and he, miraculously, received a hit to the head.

Dipper must have jumped.

Nonetheless, Bill had to catch his hat and goggles before they fell off his head. "Fine, fine. Not in the right mood. Christmas carols?" He suggested, before starting to run, cackling madly when he heard Dipper giving chase behind him.t

"Oh Christmas tree ohhh Christmassss treeeee!" He sang as he went.

Seriously. Who would have thought that working Christmas on an airship could be so fun?

xXx

Bill glared at Mabel.

Mabel glared back.

"No." He said, waving his cane sternly in her face. The female half of the mystery twins pouted.

"But why not!" She pleaded, waving her arms.

"I have better uses for my time, kid! " Bill said, but she looked no less determined. "Look kid, I refuse to use my powers to make you the ultimate ugly Christmas jumper!"

"Hear hear!" Shouted Pine Tree from the next room. "The one you've got on now is ugly enough."

xXx

It's the perfect Christmas evening. Snow is falling, houses are warm, and the people within them are full from dinner and happy from the Christmas spirit, and a good few of them are drunk from the merriest kind of

The white snow blanketing the ground mutes almost all sounds, not that late evening in Gravity Falls is ever a loud time. But it does fail to muffle one particular sound, for better or for worse.

"We wish you a merry Christmas, we wish you a merry Christmas, we wish you a merry Christmas and a very freakish new year!"

"What? No! Those aren't the words, Bill! Ugh, I knew we shouldn't have invited you to come caroling with us!"

Mabel smiles brightly as her brother and his friend start to bicker, and makes a grab for the door handle, easily slipping the door shut for the stunned man within.

Bill still gets his last word in before the door completely closes, though.

"That's it, merry Christmas, remember that the government is watching you! Buy gold!"

"Dammit, Bill!" Dipper's screech can be heard through any obstacle, let alone a mere door.

xXx

Thanks to Ren, who wrote most of the fifth one for me while I was having a mental breakdown over how late I was posting, and brought me tea after I'd recovered. He's essentially the best bro a girl could ask for. (Don't tell the other ones though.)

Thanks also to my dachshund Sadie, even though she won't understand it, because she is literally the best stress reliever ball ever. Adorable, squishy little thing, she is. About as solid as water and as weirdly durable as cast iron. Which is great, because she falls on her head all the time. And a very nice foot warmer, too.

And last but certainly not least, to all of my previous readers and also the poor fools who happened upon this trash by mistake: Thank you for reading! Have a happy Christmas, everyone, and a bearable new year. *Flings snow and glitter everywhere* Byeeeee!


End file.
